14 T h e C a rl C h in n p a g e When MamaÕs
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14 Express & Star, Thursday, March 1, 2007 guage. “One thing she did say that was my dad was the loveliest of the lot and he was a lovely man, a really lovely man.” Iris’s mother was Amy, nee Clamp. She was an Englishwoman and used to do most of the ice-cream making. Buckets The family lived in Graiseley Street “in a little, teeny two-up two-down in which Mom raised the five of us who lived (she lost one as a baby). “That left me, Bill, Carmine, Sylvia and Stephanie. We shared a yard with the next door neighbour. Mom had nothing to do with the ice-cream origi- nally and wasn’t brought up in it but she used to go in the yard to a proper ice-cream making place with tiles where she’d boil it up to make it and then put muslin over galvanised buckets to protect it.” There are still Leos in the ice-cream business in Wolverhampton and once there were many like them in the West Midlands. These families arrived here in the late 19th century, when the economy in southern Italy collapsed and hundreds of thousands fled poverty. Most of them headed for the USA, but a few came to Britain. In Glasgow and Edinburgh there were large numbers from the commune of Picinisco, in the province of Caserta. This was part of Campania and belonged to the region of Naples. It lay in the mountains above the River Liri, south of the larger town of Sora and north of Monte Cassino. Nearby were the communes of Atina and Gallinaro, and closer to Sora was the village of Carnello. This area was where the Leos came from, as did the majority of Italians who settled in Birmingham. Winifred Mullane’s mother came from Carnello and her father from San Vincenzo, to the north of Sora. They recalled that the land was owned by padroni, who employed whole families forming small villages. Work on the farms and in the vine- yards started “about 4am until noon because of the heat”. The lives of women were especially arduous. The younger ones toiled with the men, and “many babies were born in the fields and some mothers worked right away” after the birth of their chil- dren. Older women went to church each morning and then did the washing in local streams as “bed sheets were dried and replaced everyday”. After the siesta, at about four o’clock in the afternoon, all the women prepared the evening meal, “killing two or three chickens running around the farm, making spaghetti and bread, cooking among fire stones”. For Beattie Eastment’s grand- mother, bread itself symbolised the dif- ference between Italy and England. “Granny Volante used to say how hard her mother-in-law was and she used to say ‘Oo, the bread! – we used to have to eat black bread’. “And do you know it didn’t matter how much money she’d got, she would get a piece of bread, dry bread, and eat it. And I used to say, ‘Gran, what are y’doing that for?’, and dip it in her tea. I used to say,’Gran, what are y’having?’ and she used to say, ‘Oh”, in her way of talking in broken English, “It’s mar- vellous bread compared to what we used to eat, black bread”. The earliest Italians from the Monte Cassino region who settled in the West Midlands came to Birmingham and were mostly musicians. Lodging In 1881 a Giuseppe Delicatto was recorded as a street musician living at the back of 33 Bartholomew Street. His wife, Maiscatta, was aged 19, and their 15-month-old son had been born in Birmingham. Lodging with them were 15 street musicians, ranging in age from 17 to 58, although the majority were in their late teens and twenties. Only one of these people was English and the rest were Italian. Among them was an Antonia Frezza, whose family remain in Birmingham. Ten years later the census recorded another Delicatto with another lodging house in Bartholomew Street. He rented accommodation to 22 organ grinders and other street musicians, three of whom were from one family – Anne, Maria and Filamina Volante. At 33, Bartholomew Street now lived Tomas and Mary Volante. They had a seven-year-old boy who was born in Birmingham; and they gave room to two lodgers – Mary and Pasqua Deli- cata, who was aged thirty and worked as a hawker. In the courtyard behind this address lived Antonio and Antonia Tavolier, in the house occupied in 1881 by Giuseppe Delicatto and his lodgers. Antonio was born in 1863 in the commune of Atina. His birth had been registered by another Giuseppe Deli- cata, a farmer. The Tavoliers claimed they were pre-eminent in the movement from Gallinaro and Atina, asserting that “if it weren’t for us, half of em’d still be up the mountains”. This was an exaggeration, but there is little doubt that the family’s resi- dence in Birmingham encouraged the emigration of some of their relatives. Arrived Antonia Tavolier was a Bove by birth, and by the turn of the century she had been joined by her brother Peter and other members of their family. Similarly, in 1892 the family of Vincente Volante arrived in Birming- ham. As his granddaughter remembered, “our grandad went to America first because his brother was there, Peter Paul. But he didn’t like it. So he came here where his other brother was, Cecedio, and settled nearly next door.” These pioneering families were fol- lowed by others from their district: Pasquale and Angela Verechia; the Reccis; the Farinas; the Secondinis; and Martino Changretta, who was thought to have come with a Volante. In a strange land the Delicatas, Tavoliers and Volantes provided a support system for these newcomers. Importantly, they also established Birmingham’s Italian Quarter as a place which was dominated by Nobladans – speakers of the Neapoli- tan dialect. As a result, Birmingham, along with Walsall and Wolverhamp- ton, was an attractive destination to all southern Italians. Mandolins Thus the emigrants from Gallinaro were joined by families from other communes in Caserta. The Bianchis came from Peschosolido, north east of Sora; the Grecos and Iafrattis both originated in Carnello; and Vincent Pontone and Enrico Facchino both stated they came from Sora itself. It appears that Bristol was the port of entry for some of these southern Italian immigrants, as Jackie Tam- burro brought to mind. His father was from Atina, as was his wife and her brothers – the Fiondas. In the early 1900s they settled in Bristol as an extended family group, “and they used to go around the city playing the mandolins and the organs and my one uncle had a big brown bear. It used to dance on his hind legs”. If the audience was appreciative, “the people used to drop the money in the cup and they used to keep this bear down the cellar”. From Bristol, Jackie’s parents moved to Preston. This was the base from which Felipo Tamburro “would go to different towns playing his accor- dion, you see. Busking as we call it. And he used to come every now and again and bring the money”. During the mid-1920s, the family moved to Birmingham where Felipo’s When Mama’s was the ideal The Carl Chinn page P AT Finerty of Oxley Moor Road, Oxley, has written in to encourage me “next time you are at the Molineux Hotel, to just look across the ring road towards the Civic Centre. The building on the right is St Peter and Paul’s Roman Catholic church. It is identical to the hotel. “It was built to look like a house and the word is it had tunnels for the priests to escape. The Millner Hall adjoining it was a great venue for the Irish in the 1950s. It was named after Bishop Millner. “Carl, one more thing. My mother-in-law is a daughter of Percy Leo, whose family are famous for ice-cream making. “She is Iris Hodgkiss and she tells us about when they made the ice-cream in the backyard and then went off on the motorbike with the tub of ice-cream in the side car – off to the local fairs to sell it.” Iris was good enough to let me chat with her about her family. She recalled that her father used to say something about his parents coming from around Monte Cassino, where the big battle was fought in the Second World War, and that some of the family had gone to America. Unfortunately Iris’s grandfather died before she was born, but she does remember her granny, “a lovely old lady. We couldn’t talk much to her, though, because she used to start off in English and go into Italian and we couldn’t speak the lan- J HALFORD has kindly pointed out my error in locating this photo, used a few months back. I said it was Molineux Street by Herbert Street but “is in fact North Street not Molineux Street which leads off to the right of the picture. “The shops on the right are part of Tin Shop Yard where the fish and chip shop stood. The building opposite, next to the double gates became the Fox Hotel which is still there today, and Herbert Street is actually off Stafford Street. “I lived in Middle Row in the 1930s, off Charles Street, which is now the ring road. I used to walk along the Lonnes to Red Cross Street School – it was an alleyway parallel to North Street. Hope this puts things right.” John Lagorio with his cart in late 19th Century Birmingham’s Bull Ring North Street, Wolverhampton, with Molineux Street leading off to the right Memory of life in the Middle Row Have you a story to share about the Black Country? If so drop Carl a note. If you have a tale to tell, a memory to pass on or a photo to share then write to Carl c/o the Editor, Express & Star, Queen Street, Wolverhampton, WV1 1ES. All photos will be scanned imme- diately at the Express & Star offices and returned as quickly as possible. You can also e-mail Carl at [email protected] You can hear Carl Chinn each Sunday on BBC WM 95.6 FM between 1pm and 4pm Write to Carl
Transcript of 14 T h e C a rl C h in n p a g e When MamaÕs
14 Express & Star, Thursday, March 1, 2007
guage. “One thing she did say that was my
dad was the loveliest of the lot and hewas a lovely man, a really lovely man.”
Iris’s mother was Amy, nee Clamp.She was an Englishwoman and used todo most of the ice-cream making.
BucketsThe family lived in Graiseley Street
“in a little, teeny two-up two-down inwhich Mom raised the five of us wholived (she lost one as a baby).
“That left me, Bill, Carmine, Sylviaand Stephanie. We shared a yard withthe next door neighbour. Mom hadnothing to do with the ice-cream origi-nally and wasn’t brought up in it butshe used to go in the yard to a properice-cream making place with tileswhere she’d boil it up to make it andthen put muslin over galvanisedbuckets to protect it.”
There are still Leos in the ice-creambusiness in Wolverhampton and once
there were many like them in the WestMidlands. These families arrived herein the late 19th century, when theeconomy in southern Italy collapsedand hundreds of thousands fledpoverty.
Most of them headed for the USA,but a few came to Britain. In Glasgowand Edinburgh there were largenumbers from the commune ofPicinisco, in the province of Caserta.
This was part of Campania andbelonged to the region of Naples. It layin the mountains above the River Liri,south of the larger town of Sora andnorth of Monte Cassino.
Nearby were the communes of Atinaand Gallinaro, and closer to Sora wasthe village of Carnello. This area waswhere the Leos came from, as did themajority of Italians who settled inBirmingham.
Winifred Mullane’s mother camefrom Carnello and her father from SanVincenzo, to the north of Sora. Theyrecalled that the land was owned bypadroni, who employed whole familiesforming small villages.
Work on the farms and in the vine-yards started “about 4am until noonbecause of the heat”.
The lives of women were especiallyarduous. The younger ones toiled withthe men, and “many babies were bornin the fields and some mothers workedright away” after the birth of their chil-dren.
Older women went to church eachmorning and then did the washing inlocal streams as “bed sheets were driedand replaced everyday”. After thesiesta, at about four o’clock in theafternoon, all the women prepared theevening meal, “killing two or threechickens running around the farm,making spaghetti and bread, cookingamong fire stones”.
For Beattie Eastment’s grand-mother, bread itself symbolised the dif-ference between Italy and England.
“Granny Volante used to say howhard her mother-in-law was and sheused to say ‘Oo, the bread! – we used tohave to eat black bread’.
“And do you know it didn’t matterhow much money she’d got, she wouldget a piece of bread, dry bread, and eatit. And I used to say, ‘Gran, what arey’doing that for?’, and dip it in her tea.I used to say,’Gran, what are y’having?’and she used to say, ‘Oh”, in her way oftalking in broken English, “It’s mar-vellous bread compared to what weused to eat, black bread”.
The earliest Italians from the MonteCassino region who settled in the WestMidlands came to Birmingham andwere mostly musicians.
LodgingIn 1881 a Giuseppe Delicatto was
recorded as a street musician living atthe back of 33 Bartholomew Street. Hiswife, Maiscatta, was aged 19, and their15-month-old son had been born inBirmingham. Lodging with them were15 street musicians, ranging in agefrom 17 to 58, although the majoritywere in their late teens and twenties.
Only one of these people was Englishand the rest were Italian. Among themwas an Antonia Frezza, whose familyremain in Birmingham.
Ten years later the census recordedanother Delicatto with another lodginghouse in Bartholomew Street. Herented accommodation to 22 organgrinders and other street musicians,three of whom were from one family –Anne, Maria and Filamina Volante.
At 33, Bartholomew Street now livedTomas and Mary Volante. They had aseven-year-old boy who was born inBirmingham; and they gave room totwo lodgers – Mary and Pasqua Deli-cata, who was aged thirty and workedas a hawker.
In the courtyard behind this addresslived Antonio and Antonia Tavolier, inthe house occupied in 1881 byGiuseppe Delicatto and his lodgers.Antonio was born in 1863 in thecommune of Atina. His birth had been
registered by another Giuseppe Deli-cata, a farmer.
The Tavoliers claimed they werepre-eminent in the movement fromGallinaro and Atina, asserting that “ifit weren’t for us, half of em’d still be upthe mountains”.
This was an exaggeration, but thereis little doubt that the family’s resi-dence in Birmingham encouraged theemigration of some of their relatives.
ArrivedAntonia Tavolier was a Bove by
birth, and by the turn of the centuryshe had been joined by her brotherPeter and other members of theirfamily. Similarly, in 1892 the family ofVincente Volante arrived in Birming-ham.
As his granddaughter remembered,“our grandad went to America firstbecause his brother was there, PeterPaul. But he didn’t like it. So he camehere where his other brother was,Cecedio, and settled nearly next door.”
These pioneering families were fol-lowed by others from their district:Pasquale and Angela Verechia; theReccis; the Farinas; the Secondinis;and Martino Changretta, who wasthought to have come with a Volante.
In a strange land the Delicatas,Tavoliers and Volantes provided asupport system for these newcomers.Importantly, they also establishedBirmingham’s Italian Quarter as aplace which was dominated byNobladans – speakers of the Neapoli-tan dialect. As a result, Birmingham,along with Walsall and Wolverhamp-ton, was an attractive destination to allsouthern Italians.
MandolinsThus the emigrants from Gallinaro
were joined by families from othercommunes in Caserta. The Bianchiscame from Peschosolido, north east ofSora; the Grecos and Iafrattis bothoriginated in Carnello; and VincentPontone and Enrico Facchino bothstated they came from Sora itself.
It appears that Bristol was the portof entry for some of these southernItalian immigrants, as Jackie Tam-burro brought to mind. His father wasfrom Atina, as was his wife and herbrothers – the Fiondas.
In the early 1900s they settled inBristol as an extended family group,“and they used to go around the cityplaying the mandolins and the organsand my one uncle had a big brown bear.It used to dance on his hind legs”. If theaudience was appreciative, “the peopleused to drop the money in the cup andthey used to keep this bear down thecellar”.
From Bristol, Jackie’s parentsmoved to Preston. This was the basefrom which Felipo Tamburro “wouldgo to different towns playing his accor-dion, you see. Busking as we call it. Andhe used to come every now and againand bring the money”.
During the mid-1920s, the familymoved to Birmingham where Felipo’s
When Mama’swas the ideal
TThhee CCaarrll CChhiinnnn ppaaggee
PAT Finerty of Oxley Moor Road, Oxley, has written into encourage me “next time you are at the MolineuxHotel, to just look across the ring road towards the
Civic Centre. The building on the right is St Peter and Paul’sRoman Catholic church. It is identical to the hotel.
“It was built to look like a house and the word is it had tunnelsfor the priests to escape. The Millner Hall adjoining it was a greatvenue for the Irish in the 1950s. It was named after Bishop Millner.
“Carl, one more thing. My mother-in-law is a daughter of PercyLeo, whose family are famous for ice-cream making.
“She is Iris Hodgkiss and she tells us about when they made theice-cream in the backyard and then went off on the motorbike withthe tub of ice-cream in the side car – off to the local fairs to sell it.”
Iris was good enough to let me chat with her about her family. Sherecalled that her father used to say something about his parents comingfrom around Monte Cassino, where the big battle was fought in theSecond World War, and that some of the family had gone to America.
Unfortunately Iris’s grandfather died before she was born, but shedoes remember her granny, “a lovely old lady. We couldn’t talk muchto her, though, because she used to start off in English and go intoItalian and we couldn’t speak the lan-
JHALFORD has kindlypointed out my errorin locating this photo,
used a few months back. Isaid it was Molineux Streetby Herbert Street but “is infact North Street notMolineux Street whichleads off to the right of thepicture.
“The shops on the rightare part of Tin Shop Yardwhere the fish and chipshop stood. The buildingopposite, next to thedouble gates became theFox Hotel which is stillthere today, and HerbertStreet is actually offStafford Street.
“I lived in Middle Row inthe 1930s, off CharlesStreet, which is now thering road. I used to walkalong the Lonnes to RedCross Street School – it wasan alleyway parallel toNorth Street. Hope thisputs things right.”
John Lagorio with his cart in late 19th Century Birmingham’s Bull Ring
North Street, Wolverhampton, with Molineux Street leading off to the right
Memory of life in the Middle Row
Have you a story to share about theBlack Country? If so drop Carl a note.If you have a tale to tell, a memory topass on or a photo to share then writeto Carl c/o the Editor, Express & Star,Queen Street, Wolverhampton, WV11ES. All photos will be scanned imme-diately at the Express & Star officesand returned as quickly as possible.You can also e-mail Carl [email protected]
You can hear Carl Chinn eachSunday on BBC WM 95.6 FM
between 1pm and 4pm
Writeto Carl
